Clara Takes Manhattan
by Weeping Ponds
Summary: Rory and Amy Pond are living a quiet life in a neighborhood in Manhattan when a blue envelope labeled, "The Pond Residence" winds up at their doorstep. Clara Oswin is a member of the Universal Time Agency, dedicated to helping time displaced people affected by the horrors of the Weeping Angels. How will their paths intertwine, and how will the Doctor and River affect both stories?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Doctor Who related.**

* * *

 _May 4th, 1967_

Amy's eyes were an unnatural green as she picked up the Tardis blue envelope placed under her front door. Her shaking hands paused as she saw who the letter was addressed to- the _Pond Residence_ , instead of the the more traditional Williams' Household. With delicate fingertips, Amy traced over the word _Pond_ , bringing back bittersweet memories of what seemed like thousands of years ago of a little girl sitting on her suitcase, staring out into the darkness. A little girl, with a name woven like a fairytale, always keeping one eye in her back garden, that would grow up to be the woman holding the envelope here today.

It took a while for Amy to muster up the courage to tear the envelope open. She finally sighed, flipped the blue envelope over, and, using her finger, gently tore the top open. A small sheet of paper was tucked inside. Amy picked up the paper, and read the few words that were on it.

Her jaw dropped. Her mind swam with words she thought that she would never hear ever again. And finally, when she reached the last sentence, her hands flew to her mouth, dropping both the envelope and the papers to the ground.

"RORY!" she called.

 _One week ago_

Amelia Williams was sitting by her typewriter, with her legs propped up against the table, and her head leaned back. She had long since given up trying to write anything down- the crumpled papers next to her typewriter proved that.

The rain was pouring down outside her window, and condensation droplets were forming on the glass. The wooden table that she was sitting at gave the room a slight smell of lemongrass, and the cinnamon bun that she was eating earlier still left imprints of flavor on her tongue. Feeling suddenly cold, Amelia pushed the shawl on her shoulders (that was a birthday present from a friend) further up her shoulders. With skinny jeans, a plain red tight fitting t-shirt, and a gray shawl, Amy definitely didn't look anything like the average member of the "Swinging Sixties". Personally, she had never liked the trends of the sixties, and refused to wear the clothing that her friends wore.

She didn't look much like she belonged in the sixties either. Amy wore a minimal amount of makeup, and when she did wear it, she always preferred darker lip tones to the popular pastel ones. She also never spent too much time on her eyes, and her mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow were only used to compliment her natural eye color. Her friends thought it was funny that she never dolloped on her mascara, or splashed on bright eyeshadows.

"They make me looked like a doll," she had complained, as the other girls around her laughed. "I don't understand- it doesn't look good at all!"

Her friend Carolyn had laughed so hard at this. "You think making yourself look like you just woke up is hip? You walk down the street looking like you're _loaded_ -" (at Amy's blank look, she explained, "drunk".) "It was a mystery you ever got a man! Actually-" Carolyn interrupted herself, "that Rory of yours seems to dress the same way, all casual and laid back."

Amy had just shaken her head. Carolyn was a great friend- she was one of the only people living in her neighborhood that actually was interested in talking like this. All the other women Amy's age already had children now, and thought it their duty to remain in the house, doing work cooking and cleaning. For a generation of women that seemed so involved in fighting sexism, they always seemed too busy doing housework to take a stand.

As Amy was sitting at her table, staring furiously at her typewriter, the doorbell rang. Frowning, Amy stared out the pouring window, and back to the ringing doorbell. Who would come with the rain pouring down this hard? Had something happened? Was it Rory?

Slightly panicking now, she ran to the door and wrenched it open.

Carolyn stood at her front doorstep, in a soaking wet raincoat, with her usually curly blonde hair all smoothed down. She looked only mildly irritated at the pouring rain, so Amy breathed a sigh of relief.

"No bad news?" she asked, just to make sure.

"Not at all," Carolyn replied. "Everything is crystal clear, 'cept for the skies, of course." She chuckled at her own joke, as Amy moved aside to let her in.

"So, what brings you at this hour?" Amy asked, as they both plopped down onto her sofa.

"I forgot your mail." Carolyn admitted, as she dug up through her large baby blue purse. "And I knew I would forget it if I didn't bring it now."

Amy laughed, and took the mail from her. "Lovely," she said, sorting through her mail. Bills, bills, a postcard from that awful neighbor Denise vacationing in San Francisco, bills, and finally, at the very back of the pile, a Tardis blue envelope.

It had been years since she had seen such a deep shade of blue. All the blood drained out of Amelia's face, and the room seemed to turn about 30 degrees colder. She dropped all the other papers she was holding in her hand, and turned the envelope over, and saw who it was addressed to. _The Pond Residence_.

Carolyn saw the frightened look in her friend's eye, and placed a hand on her arm. "Amy?" she asked.

"Where did you get this?" Amelia whispered. "Who gave this to you?"

"The lady at the post office said that it had been reserved for you. I thought the address was a little strange, but-"

"What did she look like?" Amy interrupted.

"I'm not really sure. The one thing I significantly noticed was that she was really, really short."

Amy smoothed her hair back worriedly, and shook her head. That didn't sound like anyone she knew.

"I don't understand," Carolyn interjected, "who is Pond?"

"Pond is my maiden name," Amelia said, more focused on the blue letter in her hand.

"Maybe it's from relatives in Scotland?" Carolyn suggested.

Shocked, Amelia whipped around to face her friend. "I never said," her voice full of accusation. "I never said anything about Scotland-"

"Yes, yes, I know," Carolyn hastily interrupted. "I just assumed, because of your accent, that it just might be?"

"Impossible," snapped Amy. "No one living there would write letters to me. No," Amy paced the house, talking more to herself now, "No, no, this is far worse."

Carolyn rubbed her blonde hair and stared curiously at Amy. "Maybe Rory would know something." she suggested.

"Rory! That's it!" Amelia took the envelope in her hands, and started to put on her raincoat. "I need to see him!"

"Woah, woah, woah." Carolyn leaned against the front door. "Hospital working hours, right? You can't just go barging in, I meant that you could ask him later!"

"No time," replied Amy. "No time at all. Thanks for your help, Carolyn."

Amelia ran out the door without shutting it, as her friend helplessly stared after her.

Despite the pouring rain, Amy was running as fast as she possibly could. Her chest heaved with every breath, and the rain beat down on her lungs. She half thought that she was going to catch hypothermia from the weather, but after continuing to run for after a long time, she stopped caring. The hospital wasn't that far from her house, just walking distance. She used to run around the hospital everyday in the summer- Amelia was one of the only women her age that was slim, and very physically fit. Amy turned the corner into the hospital, and barged in the doors, gasping for breath.

The receptionist stared at Amy for a while. She must have been quite a sight- her hair messy and bedraggled, her body covered in rain. Amy limped over to the receptionist and gasped out, "Rory... Williams... doctor." She could only get this far before coughing onto the floor.

The receptionist moved quickly. "You're not the only one to ask for Doctor Williams," he said, with a cheerful smile that matched the bright yellow waiting room walls. "He's a wonderful doctor."

"He's my husband." Amy said, within wheezes.

"Oh!" said the receptionist. "Did you want to contact him?" He seemed a little lost whether to take Amy to a hospital room or fetch her husband instead.

Amy nodded, and the receptionist dialed a number on the phone dial.

He picked up a bulky headset and asked, "Hello? Dr. Williams? Your wife is here... No, I think she's fine, just a little wet from the rain... Well, she says she wants to see you... Yes... Yes... Okay, thank you Dr. Williams." He put the phone down and said, "Mrs. Williams, your husband is coming."

Rory wasted no time. In two minutes, he had bounded down the stairs to face Amy. Rory was in dull grey hospital slacks and ugly white boots, but he didn't seem to notice the waiting room staring curiously at the odd couple, as his eyes were firmly fixed on Amelia's face.

With concern, he asked, "Amy? Are you alright?"

She shook her head. "Rory, I got an envelope in the mail today."

He shook his head. "No, I don't understand."

Amelia sighed. "I got a _blue_ envelope."

Rory frowned. "Nope. Still not understanding."

Amy pulled the envelope out of her bag and handed it to Rory. "A _Tardis_ blue envelope."

Rory snatched the envelope and read the letters, "The Pond Residence."

He stared at the letters with a frown, until he turned to the receptionist and asked, "David?"

"Yes?" the receptionist asked, looking at the curious interaction between the couple.

"I don't have anything major booked after lunch, do I?"

David rifled through a binder. "No, just standard ER procedure."

"Bradley can take my shifts, I'll pay him back." Rory said, as he walked towards Amy. She smiled a little bit for the first time.

"No problem," said David. "Might I ask, where are you planning on going?"

Amy smiled, and waved the envelope into the air and gestured to Rory. "Doctor's conference."

She grabbed Rory's hand, and pulled him out of the spotless hospital doors.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! Thank you for reading MY VERY FIRST FANFIC! Yes, I have never written a fanfic ever, so I tried my hand at writing one now! Sorry if it sucks (actually, not sorry, as it's my fanfic MWAHAHAHA)! I would really, really appreciate it if you could find the time to write a little comment if you liked it (or even a comment if you didn't, I'm not partial), as this gives me lots of motivation to continue writing! I plan to post an update about once a week, maybe more if I like what you guys are saying about this chapter.**

 **I'm not sure yet how many chapters I plan to make this fanfic, but I know I am at LEAST going to write 10.**

 **So... please R &R, you lovely readers, and have a great day!**

 **-Vienna**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Doctor Who related.**

* * *

Rory and Amy didn't run back home to the rain. They called themselves a taxi and settled in comfortably into the back seat.

"Where to, miss?" the driver asked Amy, who had straightened herself up, as if to draw attention.

She gave the address, and handed the driver some crumpled dollar bills she found in her pocket. The driver, unfazed by the heavy-breathing, soaking wet state of the passengers, drove on quickly, without asking questions.

Amy looked at her husband, wondering what was going on in that funny little brain of his. Was he excited? Nervous? Scared? He didn't say anything to her, which was unusual, but, as it was, the day was a very unusual.

 _The Doctor_. Just thinking that name left a shiver down her spine. _The Doctor_. What was he up to? Who was he traveling with? Most importantly, why had he decided to come back and pop for a visit?

 _I don't like endings_. He had told her on the last day they had spent together. And she knew he was never going to let the idea of Amy Pond and the Doctor die. He was going to keep himself from coming back, he was going to keep himself from reading the last chapter and closing the book. It was so unlike him to call her for a final goodbye.

Amy had tried so hard to leave behind her life with the Doctor. She had found a great new life with Rory in Manhattan, and was even planning to, someday, have kids. She had thought that she had left London and, more importantly, she thought she had left the madman with a box behind, but it seemed, as she had rushed to Rory with news of the Doctor without a care, that she really didn't want to forget him.

As Amy continued to stare worriedly out the window, Rory suddenly grabbed Amy's hand. This simple gesture made Amy red with affection, as she turned to face Rory. He was looking at her with the utmost blissfulness, and gave a small smile, as he turned back towards the window.

Rory. Rory oh Rory. Amy's husband who wasn't anything different from human in the least. Amy's husband, who definitely wasn't a Time Lord that befriends aliens and has a magic blue box that can take him through all of time and space. Amy's husband, who was a man that devoted all of his love for her, and would rip time apart to save her. Amy's husband, who stood by guarding a box for two thousand years so she could be safe.

Even if meeting the Doctor went wrong, which was bound to turn out, Amy could still count on Rory being by her side.

The taxi arrived at the Pond's front door, and they bounded out of it, and pushed themselves inside the (still unlocked) door.

Caroline was nowhere to be seen- and Amelia was grateful. She had probably figured out that Amy needed some time alone with her husband after receiving the letter. Amy owed her an explanation for later.

Rory and Amy plopped themselves on their sofa. Amy pulled out the envelope from inside her jacket and examined it once more.

Her fingers traced the golden letters reading "The Pond Residence". She touched all the creases of the entire envelope, before cracking it open with her index finger.

As she was about to pull the letter out, Rory grabbed her wrist. She looked at him, utterly surprised, before he said, "What if it's not the Doctor. What if it's someone else pretending to be the Doctor, or one of his enemies out to get us? We can't take any chances!"

Amy froze in the action of trying to pull the letter out of the envelope, surprised and angry at herself at the fact she didn't think about if Rory was right? What if whoever sent that letter _wasn't_ the Doctor?

But what would that mean? Would it mean that the Doctor really forgot the pair of them after all. _"I don't like endings,"_ he had said, the last time they met. Amy undestood that he probably wouldn't say goodbye for a very long time. But this was too long. It had been years since she last saw the Doctor- years! She understood that it might have been less time for him, wibbly wobbly timey wimey, but the Doctor hadn't bothered to once show up to say goodbye? Not even once?

Somedays, it was true. She did feel a little resentment towards the Doctor for never bothering to ever visit. Amy knew that he couldn't stay for long- wherever he went, aliens followed, and if Rory and Amy died, there would be a massive paradox that would blow up New York, but just a visit would be nice. No matter how long she tried, however, she couldn't hate the Doctor for long- her rushing to Rory at the sound of his name was enough to prove that she still desperately missed him.

It was for this reason that Amy responded back with, "I trust the Doctor." She yanked out the letter from the envelope.

Rory tried to ignore Amy when she read the letter, but when he saw her expression morph into one of confusion, he couldn't resist and snatched the letter.

It read:

 _To the members of the Pond Residence,_

 _A Weeping Angel was recorded to be used twice on April 24th, 2012 at 11:0 A.M._

 _Condolence letters and messages to be delivered concerning the Doctor and River Song (Melody Pond II) to Amelia Pond and Rory Williams via electronic display._

 _To view these messages, please place a letter with the exact date, time, and coordinates of your preferred meeting place in the bin marked "future deliveries" at 5th Avenue General Post Office. A proctor will display these messages to you at the time, date, and location you specified._

 _Your proctor who will display these messages to you is:_

 _Clara Oswin, Weeping Angel Agency Proctor Specialist #23._

 _We hope this has provided you with assistance._

 _Regards,_

 _The Weeping Angel Agency_

 _Asteroid Omega, +400_

* * *

 **Hi guys! So I finally updated, yay! Only I wrote most of it on my phone, I'll have to edit the mistakes I made later. :(**

 **More reviews mean faster updates!**

 **Hopefully you weren't too confused with this chapter! I'll clarify everything next update, probably after Christmas break, so Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in advance!**

 **I'll update my other story, _A Rose By Any Other Name_ , faster than this one, so check it out!**

 **Cheers!**


End file.
